


Guilt

by CosimaMaslany



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Child Death, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Matricide, Murder, Patricide, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape, this story has a lot of fucked up tags and no happy endings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosimaMaslany/pseuds/CosimaMaslany
Summary: Cassiopeia Wilkes is living with her cousins in Derry after the traumatic and violent death of her father the previous year. After her cousin George goes missing, Cassie will have to deal with her past, and fight the urge to go insane when the thing that went after her cousin starts using her mind as Its own personal playground





	Guilt

Rain pounded steadily on the window of Cassie’s room. The thumping of a ball bouncing on the other side of her wall made the migraine she was having even worse. She put a pillow over her head and banged the wall with her fist. “Georgie, I have a headache!” It stopped immediately and she relaxed, closing her eyes. _Ahh.. the sweet sound of silence at last.._ She thought, starting to sink into that calm state of mind between awake and asleep. Right before the door opened a couple of seconds later and then slammed shut with a BANG. Cassie immediately opened her eyes, turned over, and sat up; ready to give whoever dared intrude on her solitude Holy Hell when she stopped, seeing who it was. Her cousin, George Denbrough, was standing in the middle of the room, looking hesitant and nervously tossing his ball back and forth between his hands. “I’m sorry, Cassie.” He said apologetically. “I forgot you weren’t feeling good.” She shrugged and laid back down. “It’s okay, Georgie. Just be a little quieter.” She reached for a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel and put it under the covers, right on the apex where her pelvis and stomach met. The dull, twisting pain seemed to subside a little and she started to relax again. “Are you sick just like Billy?” The little boy asked, innocent curiosity in his eyes. A smile peeked across Cassie’s face and she had to suppress a chuckle. “No, kiddo. This is something only girls get. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Georgie made a face, but let the matter drop. “I wish you and Bill weren’t sick. I’ve got nobody to play with now.”

“Well, why don’t you see if you can go play in the rain? I bet your mom would let you. It doesn’t look too bad out there now.” It had been raining steadily in Derry for the past week and parts of the town were starting to resemble Atlantis (Cassie’s uncle Zach was part of the team of men dealing with the flooded areas), but the neighborhood that Cassie lived in with her aunt, uncle, and cousins wasn’t flooded at all; just a lot of big puddles.

Georgie’s eyes brightened and his face lit up with an ear to ear grin. “Really? Do you think I’d be able to?”

“Go ask your mom and see.”

George bolted from the room without another word, his retreating footsteps echoing down the hall. Cassie settled back into her nest of pillows and closed her eyes, going back into the void, and eventually, to sleep. She dreamt of the color red- balloons, lipstick, blood. She told her mind it was because she was currently experiencing her period.. But something inside her told her it was more than that. She snapped awake after seeing a flash of sharp teeth and getting the feeling of being pulled into a hole. That was when she heard a horrible wailing sound coming from downstairs.

“Aunt Sharon?” She questioned, getting up and going downstairs. She ran into her cousin Bill on the way down. “What’s going on?” She asked, peeking into the living room from the middle of the stairwell and seeing two police officers, her aunt, and her uncle standing there, talking. She looked back up to see Bill, whose face was a gaunt, pale version of itself. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he could say anything. “G-G-Georgie’s mi-miss-“ but Cassie held up a hand to stop him as her aunt started crying again.

18 children had sprung up missing in Derry that summer. Whoever had been behind it had seemed to stop in September.. But it seemed like it was starting again. She clutched the staircase in silent pain as she felt a particularly nasty cramp work its way down. Bill looked like he had something to add, but he went back up to his room and shut the door. Cassie waited until the police had left to go back downstairs, where her aunt and uncle were sitting on the couch, looking forlorn. Neither of them noticed her as she went into the kitchen to make some tea. She came out ten minutes later, holding a tray with three steaming mugs- two held tea, one coffee for her uncle. She set them down in front of them and went to sit next to her aunt, giving a sympathetic squeeze of her shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do?” Cassie asked softly. Sharon shook her head and reached for a fresh tissue. Cassie herself, was fighting back the urge to cry until she was alone. “No, Cassie. You’ve been through so much this year already.” She spoke through sobs. “But I want to help, if I can. I could.. make dinner, maybe? So you don’t have to do anything?” Sharon looked at Zach, who nodded and took his keys and a $50 out of his pocket, handing them both to Cassie. “Go to the store and get something for dinner, but please, be back in half an hour.” There was warning in his voice, but also concern. Cassie nodded, muttering her thanks and running upstairs to change out of her sweats and slippers.

When she came back down, 5 minutes later, Bill was waiting for her by the door. “Can I come too? Pl-P-Please?”

“I’m just going to-“ Cassie started before she stopped herself. When she was in Bill’s position six months ago, she’d have given anything in the world to be anywhere else besides the house where her father had died- albeit for a different reason, but still- “Sure. Come on.”

She ran out to the car and got in, turning on the heater and the radio and waiting for Bill. A Madonna song was playing, but neither of them paid attention as Cassie drove to the Safeway in (almost) silence. As they stopped at a light, Cassie caught a glimpse of something- or she thought it was something- in a sewer grate across the street; it looked like a pair of glowing yellow eyes were staring- no- watching her from within the grate. The light had changed by then, and so she sped away, but the thought was on her mind until they’d gotten to the store. The Safeway was packed with cars, despite the steady torrent of autumn rain coming in.

Cassie grabbed a cart and quickly made the rounds, grabbing what she needed for chili. Bill trailed behind her, a tall, lanky automaton. They wasted about 20 minutes at the store before heading back home. Cassie wanted to say something- anything- to Bill on the way back, but all that came out was: “I’m sorry.” Which was a stupid thing to say to a grieving person, almost about as stupid as ‘at least they’re in a better place/not suffering.’

“Thank you.” Bill muttered.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“N-no.”

“Okay.”

The next few hours were both eventful and uneventful at the same time. When they left the Safeway, no one had heard about Georgie. By the time they’d gotten home, Zach had turned on the answering machine, which was steadily filling up with ‘friendly calls’ from ‘sympathetic friends and neighbors’. One of the many rituals when someone lost a family member. Only, Georgie wasn’t dead- yet. They’d given a photograph of Georgie, along with his age and a description of what he’d been wearing when he left to the police. It was no use though. Georgie was the 19th missing child from Derry that year. The ones that had been found- were dead and not in the best of condition when they’d been recovered. Closed coffin funerals, all. Bill still had hope though, as Cassie found out a couple of days after the funeral. She wished she could be that optimistic, but the only thought going through her head on the matter of Georgie was  _It's my fault. I sent him out there. Got him killed._

_Just like I killed my parents._


End file.
